


Rough scales

by just_a_little_writer



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: After arkham knight, Arkham Knight, Batman - Freeform, Blood, Cannibalism, Comfort, Croc doesn't really appear until chapter 3 but we talk about him nonstop, Exposition, Gen, Has enough backstory to probably be an oc at this point, I just wanted hurt comfort and fluff with Croc, I really just wanted to write about the changes croc went through but am stuck in writer block, Mentions of Batman - Freeform, Self-Insert, Uhmm..., because it's Croc, but genderneutral, chapter one is just Cash thinking, crocs backstory is included and only lightly changed, cursing, here I am making up backstories, no beta we die like men, nothing too graphic yet but you know, rated m to be safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_a_little_writer/pseuds/just_a_little_writer
Summary: Anybody else here thinking Croc deserves more love? I just always loved his transformation in the Arkham games and while his physical changes are obvious, I feel like his psychology and mental state is overlooked a lot! A lot of shit happened to him which caused his condition to become worse in Arkham Knight. He didn't just want revenge on the people responsible, he wanted them to reverse it and help him (and maybe then eat them).I wanted a comfort one-shot and thought I might write for Croco boy (because I never have the patience for OC's) BUT:You ever got a scene that you want to write but need to lead into it? Not any real Croc or shipping interactions yet until chapter 3.So if you read it, please let me know your thoughts!! This won't be a fully fleshed ff. I just hope I can find enough motivation to finish it.
Relationships: Killer Croc/Reader, Waylon Jones/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 17





	1. limbs can grow back - the mental state not

**Author's Note:**

> Remember: There isn't any Croc or "insert character" interaction yet. I just wanted to get a feeling for the time and place while reflecting a bit about our scaly big boy. If you liked it so far, PLEASE let me know. Otherwise I might forget to write part 2.

The gory sounds of bones and flesh repeatedly slapping against the wet ground of the sewers echoing through the halls of the Asylum. Deep baritone growls letting you know just who is the cause for it.

One metal hand takes hold of a remote control and aims at the owner of the bloody teeth from a distance with the other, still attached, hand.  
"Croc you damned bastard!" Cash roars out of anger and wastes no time hitting the button on the remote.

More pain filled groans caused by the electrical collar make the other guards let out a sigh of relieve.  
The unmoving body of their fellow guard has been dropped.  
A splash of water.  
He backed off.

For now.

\-------

"Do you have any idea what caused it this time" A guard asks his collegue while shoving a donut into his mouth. The chocolate on it already melting due to the lack of air conditioning.  
They are sitting in the asylums breakroom, the bitter coffee matching the bitter scent of sweaty uniforms and gunpowder surrounding them.

"You think there had to be a cause? Please!" He barks out a laugh while throwing his head back. "If you ask me, you could just have taken a shit looking north this morning and it would have been enough of a reason to him to maul your face off. Hell, maybe it's why he is so pissed all the time! Dude literally lives in the sewers!!! Maybe he's tired of our literal shit in his 5 stars cells." His dirty blonde hair falls down into his smirking face before it contorts back into a frown.  
"Not more tired than we are off his shit." he murmurs almost more to himself.

A sigh.

"Still. A shame we lost them. Heard they have previously been assigned to Firefly. They were good, even with the heavy hitters! But man, you just don't act the same anymore when those glowing yellow eyes are staring you down, huh?"

"Maybe you can let it teach you to keep your cool around him." Both jump at the sudden voice tuning into the conversation. One choking on the donut while the other takes a look at the souce.

Cash is leaning against the doorframe.

"You done gossiping?" He walks up to the coffee machine and puts his cup underneath it before he hits the button.

Both guards look each other up and down, only to swallow and reply in union with "Yes, Sir!" and leave. No need to stick around for small talk with him after a day like this.

Cash takes in the silence with pleaure and enjoys the welcoming heat of the freshly brewed beverage. But his mind goes other places. Because they were right. Because his attacks are more frequent than before. Because... he didn't know why either.

Surely, Cash is aware that Crocs life hasn't been easy. The experiments run on him in the other prison made him grow more than just a few inches. According to the files he too has lost limbs. Even if they grew back it in his case, it still doesn't take away the trauma and pain he must have went through alongside with his mutation developing even more. He squints his eyes in irritation.  
"Fucker didn't have a tail when he ate my hand." Cash will forever be more bitter about this than the coffee here has ever been. Mostly because he expected himself to never be caught of guard like that. He never forgave Croc, but neither himself either.

Yet, his behaviour is worrisome. Cash never pretended to be a therapist, but even he can see the basic changes this so called monster has gone through. Barely talks in whole sentences anymore. Not refering to himself as human. Even walking on all fours more often than not! Worrisome is probably putting it lightly.

Killer Crocs temper factor has gone through the roof as well. Though todays mishap had a long time coming, even Cash had to admit that. Despite always talking of each other highly, barely anybody assigned here is purely in it for justice. No goodie two shoes down here, unless somebody in the higher-ups has a personal vendetta against them. Most have sadistic tendecies and will quite literally poke the beast to show off their power and dominance.

A foul who thinks a metal plate with your name on it has more power than the jaw of a man than can break handcuffs in half. So as regretfull as their passing is, it wasn't too surprising.

Cash takes a deep gulp of coffee once more. He would have burned his tongue hadn't he been used to it.

Something about Croc keeps bothering him.

It really has been more.

More attacks, insults, growlings, threats, you name it. Nothing seems to calm him down anymore.  
Give him food, he will gulp it like an animal. Offer him therapy sessions, he snarls. Let him swim, he will jump out of the water at anybody that didn't pay attention. He is restless.

He takes out his phone, swiping to look at months old photo. A long time ago, Batman only brought in some average thugs that caused trouble while trying to break into some cells for their boss. But after he finished, he gave Cash this note. It's safely locked away at Cashs home, but he took the liberty of photographing it shall he need it. The information written on it aren't highly dangerous. It's only an adress. A name and an adress. Written above it was the note by Batman "Emergency contact for Killer Croc - only for when Mr Jones is in Arkham again"

Should he? Is this enough of an emergency? He never got a good enough explanation out of the Bat for what an emergency is supposed to be. He only got told that even Croc doesn't know of this...

The loud screeching sound of sirens go off

"FUCKING HELL!! WHAT NOW?!?" Cash puts his phone back into the pocket. Coffee long forgotten.

Another guard comes rushing down the corner towards Cash. Her face telling him already it's Croc.

"Sorry Sir!" Both start running towards the sound of paniced yells, guns drawn "He started approaching the bars and is attempting to bend them. The electric shocks don't stop him and the tranquilizers either don't go through the scales or are not effective enough anymore. We have yet to find out"

"Screw this" Cash thinks to himself "If we get through this, I will take a business trip to this adress."

The roaring sounds vibrate his bones.

"If"


	2. Scales aren't fireproof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Cash to check on that emergency contact. Who could it be? Ready for a lot of exposition and sadness? Because Croc still doesn't appear in the chapter physically. We just talk about him a lot and I got lost making up a potential backstory for Croc and Reader that halfway works with the canon backstory? Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to thank the people that commented on the first chapter!! It really motivated to write for it again!
> 
> I got very much lost in trying to create a backstory for the Reader and how they are connected to Waylon. So Cash and Reader have a nice chat and the man in question doesn't make an appearance once again. So sorry! I really wanted to get to him but now it's hours later and I wrote pages of this exposition that I need to post instead. But next chapter would def. be in Arkham with him!

The next day his aching muscles left Cash no chance but to crash the moment he hit the bed after his shift. The only thought remaining was to use his free day tomorrow to finally make a break for this mysterious address.

Disciplined he makes use of the time and wakes up relatively early and quickly breakfasts before leaving the apartment. He already knows that the part of the city where he is going, while not at a hot spot for crimes, is still quite unpleasant for most residents living there since it is close to one of the bridges in Gotham. Therefor a lot of people “disappear” in the area (sleeping with the fishes). And while you can always leave even quicker with the bridge close by, it also means that the other way around, all the runaways and people that need to hide might come through those parts first. Quite a lot have taken over apartments of people there to lay low. Not always leaving the residents in one piece once they leave.

Cash prepares for the worst and sticks a note with his whereabouts on his fridge and takes a gun with him. He puts on a long coat to hide it and takes his car to the destination.

He thought the last shift would leave him with another missing limp. Croc went insane and spiraled into a violent beast full of rage. Thanks to the experiments that were run on him by Ranken and the others, tranquilizers now barely have an effect on him anymore. It took a lot of electricity and dirty tricks to back Croc down into his sewers once again. He then started to calm down and only insulted them verbally, using his by now unused and rough deep voice that shakes anybody awake. Some time after that they heard him munching in his leftover lunch. The wet tearing noises accompanied by low growls would cause most people to worry even more, however it let Cash breath out if relief and check out for the day. An hungry Croc is a moody Croc. If he eats, it's a good sign.

Cash finally turns arrives at his destination and takes a few calming breaths in the parked car. He double checks the address and looks and the apartment building. Nothing too weird about it. Could just be the home of some old cat-ladies with only little money. He looks at the windows trying to determine which one would be the right one, but he comes up clueless and spots nothing of interest to him. But knowing better than to have trust into the appearance of things, Cash still prepares for the worst outcome and remembers where the emergency exit is while he walks up to the third floor and knocks on the door.

The name on the door is (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). Cash feels like he has heard that name before but can't really pinpoint it. With his line of work, if he heard of them, it's probably not good. He takes back a step to be out of arms reach of the person when he hears shuffling and a voice yelling

“Coming!” But to his surprise they don't open the door and instead Cash notices a shadow underneath a door. _“They are probably looking through the spy hole. Clever.”_

“Who are you?” The voice asks Cash suspiciously. Not many would forget the man with a fake hand in Arkham. So Cash assumes that they didn't meet before and answers in a low voice.

“Aaron Cash. I got your address from a friend of work and think you might be able to help me.”

“Help? I don't think I know what you mean by that. Who was that friend of yours Mister Cash?”

Cash looks around the hallway to check if any other residents are walking around. When he spots nobody he continues. “Big guy. Wears a lot of black. A cape.” No reaction. “Flies around the city.” After that he hears a whispered “Oh shit!” The door swings open and before Cash can take in the appearance of this mysterious person he is pulled into the apartment and has the door closed behind him. Only when the owner starts walking towards the kitchen does he get a good look at them.

“So the Bat, huh? You want any tea or coffee? Sit down please. I feel like we have a lot to discuss.”

“Coffee, no milk. Thank you.” Cash replies and seats himself at the table.

“Okay, just a minute.” A few seconds go by before the guard clears his throat.

“So, you know why I am here? Why the Bat send me here?”

They tilt their head a bit looking at him. “Hmmm... not exactly? I don't know for sure why you are here, but I know there is only one reason Batman would give my contact information to anybody.” They place the coffee in front of Cash and sit down next to him with a glass of water in hand. “Cookie?” They slide a plate of cookies between them.

“Maybe later. Please continue.” He blows on his cup of coffee.

Their gaze is unfocused on the table as they blink slowly and lift their eyes to him.

“It's because of Waylon, isn't it?”

Cash nods silently. “You're on first name bases? That's uncommon for him.”

They let out a short laugh. “Heh! I guess so, huh? How do you call him again? Waylon Jones, Mister Jones? Or the big bad Killer Croc?” They bite one cookie and wait for a response.

“Killer Croc most of the time. Or just Croc. He doesn't react to his given name all too much anymore and it usually just enrages him.”

“Thought so... but tell me Mister Cash” They squint their eyes at him. “I still don't know who you are, or why the Bat would send you here now of all the times. Care to explain your visit?”

“No problem. You see, I am a security guard at Arkham Asylum and especially am assigned to watch over him.” He notices how they lean forward, interested to hear more. “I've had your address for a while but didn't know who to expect. Batman gave it to me and titled it as an emergency contact for Croc.”

“Is he in danger.” They ask worried.

“Try the other way around. We are in more danger the longer he tries to go on a rampage. The thing is, unfortunately, I don't know anything about you except of your name and where you live. I don't know why or how you're supposed to be able to help with him but...” He takes a sip out of his cup and looks them directly in the eyes. “at this point, it can't get any worse. So I figured I have to give it a shot. No matter how you are connected. If Batman says we should let you to him, we will. As long as you explain to me what's going on.”

Letting the new information sink in they consider their choices of words before they sigh and start nibbling on their cookie in between their words.

“Did you know that Killer Croc first used this name when he started wrestling alligators?”

“Yeah, they mentioned it in his file somewhere. He was part of-”

“A traveling circus.” They interrupt him and wishfully lift their gaze onto the wall next to them and stare silently. It wasn't until Cash follows their gaze he spots a frame on said wall.

He knows where he heard their name before.

In the frame is a flyer of said circus. It was dirty, like it's been picked back up from the ground but it still was very recognizable of the mentioned circus. He studies it for a bit from the distance and then notices another, less pretty frame, which showcases an old newspaper article about the fate it suffered. A fire.

The circus went up in flames and so did their performers, if they weren't slaughtered when they tried to run. This is where Cash read their name. As the main guard for Croc he tried to read up more about his past, not that Croc would respond to it being brought up with anything but anger. Even the doctors avoided the topic like a plague after it caused him to injure half a dozen of guards as he tried to break free and attack the doctor after the session. He was more patient back then and waited for when he was escorted back into his cell to rip himself free and attack. The doctor came out of it alive but has ever since refused to go near him again.

How. How could the owner of a name he read as one of the victims of that tragic story be sitting here? _“What have you gotten me into Batman?”_ He curses him mentally.

“You were there, weren't you?” It's more of a statement but they still answer him.

“Yes.” They raise one pant leg a bit and show off a burn. All that leaves Cash as a response is a whispered “How?”

They smirk at him and start telling their tale. “I'm not a ghost, if that's what you're worried about.”

“I wasn't - “

“This is Gotham. I've noticed there is almost nothing impossible here. Did or did you not get here because of a Bat?” He sighs and asks with a hand gesture to continue. “When the fire happened, I and many others tried to run. I didn't know where Waylon was and barely made it out of the tent before I got captured.”

“Captured? I thought everybody was slaughtered or burned?”

“Most. Yes. But I and 2 more got kidnapped. Many years after that I...” They trail off, obviously still shaken from the traumatizing time. “We were basically just punching bags. The people that set the place on fire wanted to be crime lords but didn't really have the brains for it. A few wannabes barely older than teenagers. They tried to show dominance over their territory with the fire, but nobody knew them. So nobody cared. They captured the ones that still looked human among the so called freak show and wanted to sell us. But again, nobody cared to engage with them. So they just used us as punching bags out of frsutration and made us clean their base etc. Even made us listen to their pitiful stories of how they got beaten up by Penguins thugs and how they'll show them what a mistake they made. We were the only ones they felt like they had power over. Sadly, one of us died as she tried to escape but didn't make it far enough before they caught, tortured and killed her in front of us. She used to be great on the trapeze!” A dreamy looks lights up their face as they remember her acts in the circus. “Very agile.” The smile disappears. “But with our injuries and barely enough food, she lost the strength to fight them off for long. We were too scared to fight them since then and suffered more degrading. Then one of them got drunk and... I was left alone. My last friend gone.”

Cash did not expect such a turn of events. He would put on a nice metallic prosthetic and then punch those fuckers square in the face if he ever found them. But since they apparently are now safe and free, Cash feels like somebody else did that for him. “I'm sorry this happened to you.”

They acknowledge him with a nod and a calm smile. “It's okay. The story doesn't end there.” They take a sip of water and continue. “So, after all that something weird happened all of a sudden after weeks. They didn't return. We didn't live with them so they had us locked in some kind of warehouse. Some essentials for us, well, me to live on for when they were gone. I was chained to a wall and couldn't reach anything besides the bathroom, food storage, and a mattress on the floor. I was used to it and still mourning my friends. I swore to myself I'd fight them when I got the chance because I had nothing else to loose anymore. But what do you know, I didn't get the chance anymore. After I went through half of the food I was getting worried. Not for them, but for me being left here to die. After weeks the door suddenly opened and I was ready to attack whoever approached me but to my surprise, I didn't recognize the person that came in as them. He was dressed in black and helped me out of my chains. You know him.”

“Batman?” Cash leans forward in question. “He got you out of there?”

“Yes. Safe and sound.”

“Good. I hope he beat them up good and got them behind bars or something!” Cash replies happily. Finally the tension of the story leaving his body as he enjoys the smell of his beverage and warms his one hand on it. They, however, smirk at that.

“It wasn't him.”

“What?” A bit confused.

“It wasn't Batman who took care of them. It was Waylon.” A pregnant pause. “Batman explained it to me since I understood nothing at this point and didn't even know he was still alive. Apparently he survived and turned to a life of crime after losing his family in the ashes of the circus. He got hired for money and all the time tried to search for the ones responsible for his pain. But he didn't know we, or I, was still alive at this point. So he... ate... them when he found them. They seemed to not have had a chance to talk. Batman told me they hid their business well, since they've been in the warehouse for years and there was nothing suspicious about it. And since nobody took them serious they didn't have any shady businesses except some drug dealing that wasn't really worth looking into. But I guess Batman was curious why Waylon went to such extremes with them and checked everything. Only to find me.”

“I remember them! First time the man developed this cannibalism thing. We never knew what triggered it. Guess that's solved now.”

“You're welcome!” They joke before becoming silent.

“Did you not try to find Croc when you heard he was still alive?” Cash asks carefully.

“I wasn't told that until way later. After I was freed I guess everything caught up with my brain and I broke down. Batman took his time and tried to talk to me but I didn't talk for days. Not when the police arrived. Not when they asked my name. They brought me to a therapists who at last was able to break the ice and I started explaining what happened. Learning that I was still alive was a shock to many, but since it was just a circus of freaks not even the news cared to print about it. A problem remained when the Bat explained to me that Waylon was still alive as well.” Their eyes light up and they sit up straight “I wanted to meet him again after all those years! Of course I did Cash!! But I wasn't allowed to. I didn't care that he ate them. They were the monsters to me so he did the world a service. But this sidekick, what do you call him again? A birds name...”

“Robin?”

“Yeah! He had to watch over me not doing anything stupid like contacting Waylon. They told me that he was already well rooted in crimes and he would only drag me down with him. Yet, I still wanted to see my friend! So I did all I could. I went to therapy to prove I got better mentally. I got an apartment to show him I have a stable life now and can handle it. At this point I knew my only two chances are either running into my friend by accident or Batman helping. So when he told me he left my contacts with someone for Croc I was elated! It took you quite some time to make use of this slip of paper huh?”

“It was classified as an emergency. Hard to decipher what counts as such with him.” Cash was relieved he finally knew what all of this is about, but he still had questions. “Can you tell me why it had to be an emergency? Just so he would not drag you down?”

“Ah, no. You're right. There is another reason why even Batman was hesitant to let this meeting happen. He always wanted Waylon to learn out of his mistakes. Become better. He didn't so I thought that letting me meet him could get him out this hole. But we have to consider all possibilities here Mister Cash.” The chuck the water down in one go and slam the glass on the table.

“The fire... was traumatizing for him. In many ways. He didn't just fear for himself there, but everybody else. He lost everything. The family he found and a place that welcomed him. If he sees me again, it could trigger all of that. From what I've heard he doesn't react well to being reminded of it and ends up repressing everything and attacks.”

“You're right about that. So you mean...” Cash trails off.

“He could lash out. He could loose himself and attack everything and that in a way you've never seen. If he doesn't believe it's really me he could be in a blind rage, all of his repressed memories overwhelming him.”

Neither say a word for a minute. Croc has been lashing out already, but people develop an increase of strength when they are in a state of panic. Who knows what this could potentially awaken and him. Cash gulps and the image building in his head and looks at them after some time.

“Are you...” He coughs. “Are you sure this would happen?” He hopes not.

“That it would?” They turn to him and pause. Suddenly a smile comes back and the cheerful tone surprises Cash. “I don't think it would, but it could! That's the difference! I think it could remind him of bad memories and cause something inside of him. But if that something turns into violence I would not know. I don't expect it though.”

They suddenly lightly put a hand and his lower arm which snaps his eyes to their begging ones.

“Please Cash. He went out their and saved me. I want to return the favor.”

After hearing all of this Cash was suddenly reluctant to let this poor soul even near Arkham. They have suffered enough. But they got more to say.

“Waylon isn't the only one that lost a family. I really want to see my friend again!” They insist.

“I can't say no to that, now can I?” He sighs out. It's the last straw. But he still has something he wants to ask.

“Fine, I'll take you to him. But ONLY if you tell me what kind of relationship you and Cro- Jones, had?”

They smirk at that.

“A good one, Mister Cash! A good one.”

_“Well, good enough.”_ The guard thinks to himself and quickly finishes his coffee and shoves a cookie into his mouth before thinking of the details for the meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of it is based on Waylons actual backstory, with some changes of course. The Reader feels like an OC at this point but I still want to keep it neutral like that. It's like an unnamed nonbinary OC whose physical features aren't described?
> 
> Anyways, I wrote it all in one session again and mistakes are most likely there. Feel free to let me know about problems.
> 
> If you enjoyed it, also let me know! Without the last feedback, you would have been waiting for way longer. So let me know if you read all this nonsense backstory and still want more? Ready to finally interact with our beloved Killer Croc?

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler: Cash surives and they get Croc back into the cell. Whose adress is this? Yours. Because I am too lazy for OC's.  
> \---  
> Thoughts? Comments help the writing progress a lot!  
> Also: Any reason you read so far? What made you want to read about Mr Jones?


End file.
